Sum of the Whole

by Brenda Murphy

  Sarah was able to take everything Jaya proposed. She had a sense of Jaya, of when she needed or wanted her to push back, and when she wanted complete obedience. Jaya was obsessed with Sarah and her capacity for pain and her self-control. She had progressed through every instrument in the cabinet, employing all her favorite methods of inflicting pain. Floggers, rope bondage, and finally, when Jaya was sure of her own control, the cane.

  Sarah read Jaya’s moods better than Jaya did, able to give exactly the right amount of pushback to incite passion in Jaya. Power and pleasure flowed between them. Sarah took it all, never once uttering her safe word. Jaya had explored every inch of Sarah inside and out, teasing and torturing every part of her. Jaya squirmed in her seat, thinking of Sarah’s ability to give back the right amount of pain. Her nails and teeth had marked Jaya. Her fingers had found the deepest part of Jaya, the part that begged to be fucked hard, the part that craved the push and pull between them.

  When they talked, she believed Sarah’s words in a way she never quite believed Deidre. She’d never trusted Deidre wouldn’t use Jaya’s secrets against her in a fight. She believed Sarah. And yet. This is a pleasure house. A fancy whorehouse for those who can pay. Is she an amazing actress, banking on her ability to read me and on her own capacity for pain? Am I being played again?

  She took another sip of her brandy and savored the slow burn in her throat. Jaya was more relaxed and happier than she had been in the year since Deidre had left. She had forgotten how she thrived on the flow of power, pain, and pleasure. Mistress. As much a part of me as my skin.

  Jaya cherished the heady feeling of desire and passion she felt with Sarah. She had had lovers and paid playmates since Deidre, but no one had wanted what Sarah willingly and passionately submitted to each time Jaya summoned her. Jaya twirled her pencil in her fingers. She dreamed in her most private moments of a life with Sarah. Sarah understood her in a way much beyond what Jaya had expected from Rowan House. Jaya had not bothered playing with the other submissives. She could sense their avarice and the way they always held some part of themselves back while playing their roles. Jaya ultimately found it disappointing, the reality of their pay-for-play situation inserting itself into the scene whenever one of them flirted with her.

  She is either a better actor or she truly cares for me. How to tell? Jaya picked up her sketchbook. She flipped through the images of Sarah she had drawn, searching her face for signs of subterfuge. She tossed the sketchbook aside. The sound of Sarah’s gentle breathing filled the room. She walked to the bed so she could watch her sleep. In slumber her face was peaceful, her lips parted ever so slightly, her perfect mouth begging to be kissed even as she slept. Her submission was spectacular. After two months with Sarah, Jaya could no longer pretend her interest was simply part of her fantasy. Am I being silly? Crazy imagining this is real? Maybe I’m a fool buying into the fantasy that is Rowan House. Maybe I’m not.

  She met with Martha and arranged a special salon.

  THE SAINT ANDREW’S cross was worn, the surface smooth and well oiled, meticulously maintained. Jaya checked over the cross, adjusting the straps as she performed her last safety checks. Satisfied the equipment was safe, she summoned each of the house’s other submissives in turn. She interviewed each of them and gave them no limits other than they were not to break Sarah’s skin and that they must work so Jaya could see Sarah’s eyes and face at all times. She had Octavia deliver her written instructions to Sarah.

  NOT THE SAME. Jaya sat up and stripped off the rest of her clothes and tossed them off the bed. Her thighs were sticky and wet after she had brought herself off thinking of the torments she had planned for Sarah. She looked at the clock for the hundredth time and groaned. She closed her eyes and visions of Sarah played out in her mind. Why did I make it eight o’clock?

  Jaya left the bed and showered quickly. She sat at the mirror and braided her hair into one thick rope at the back of her neck. So many memories in such a short time. She threaded the emerald-green ribbon she had used to bind Sarah through her hair. That evening. Jaya stared at her reflection, wishing Sarah was standing behind her, wishing it had been her sure and quick hands braiding her hair. My Sarah. She turned away from the mirror. Cancel it. She turned the thought over in her mind. She could cancel and summon Sarah to spend the evening wrapped in the safe space of their time together. No. I need to know. Need to see.

  SHE WORE A loose white silk shirt. The fabric rubbed against her nipples, keeping them half-hard, the friction delicious. Tan riding pants and her favorite knee-high boots completed her look for the evening event. She tucked the emerald earrings into her pants pocket. She carried the crop from their first meeting, tapping her leg with it as she walked to meet Sarah. The house was quiet and her boots were loud on the hardwood floor. She stopped and twisted the crop in her hands. What if she breaks for the others? What if I do? Taking a deep breath, she began walking again, tapping the crop on her leg harder. The slight sting of leather focused her thoughts.

  The doors to the ballroom gleamed and the smell of lemon oil filled the hall. Jaya rested her hand on the large brass handles. Time. Time to find out if this is real or if I’ve been fooling myself. The latch clicked open and she entered. The other submissives were arrayed as she had instructed. The room was warm after the chill of the hallway. Jaya inhaled the smell of leather, sweat, and fear. It filled her. Completed her. She was in her element. In control. Mistress. She acknowledged the women standing and took her seat on the raised platform in the large leather club chair. She poured herself a snifter of brandy and placed it beside the hourglass on the side table. Mistress. Time to own it. Time to be who I am. Time to find out who Sarah is.

  AT EIGHT O’CLOCK sharp, Sarah presented herself to Jaya in the ballroom. Her hands were clasped at her waist and her steps halting. Her red-gold hair spilled over the shoulders of the dark green cloak she wore. Sarah’s sky-blue eyes were wide as she turned her head to view the harlequin-masked and red-robed figures gathered in a semicircle behind Jaya. A fine sweat shone on her brow. Her fingers plucked at her robe.

  “Step closer. Present yourself.” Jaya noted the slightest shiver pass through Sarah. She stepped forward and unclasped the cloak. It fell to the floor behind her, forming a rich puddle of green on the gray stone floor. She dropped to a kneeling position. Her hands rested on her thighs palms up and she lowered her head. Jaya closed the distance between them and placed her hand on top of Sarah’s head. She carded her fingers through Sarah’s curls. Sarah’s shoulders relaxed and she leaned into Jaya’s touch. Trust. So much trust. Jaya cupped Sarah’s face in her hands and kissed her. She leaned back to look in her eyes and wrapped her fingers in Sarah’s hair.

  “Tonight, each of these women will assist me. They have no limits on what they may do to you other than no one may cut or pierce your skin.” Pulling Sarah’s head back and pinning her with her eyes, she ran her thumb over Sarah’s lower lip. “That is reserved for me. Do you consent?”

  “Yes. If it pleases you, Mistress.” The others might have missed the slight catch in Sarah’s voice, but Jaya did not. The smell of her desire and fear as it rose from her filled the room and Jaya’s soul. Fear. Desire. Surrender.

  Jaya tugged her hair, forcing her head back farther, and brought her lips close to her ear. “It pleases me greatly. Each pair will have the length of this glass to do as they please with you. You may not take your pleasure unless I give you permission. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  She released Sarah’s hair. “Stand.”

  Sarah stood up. Jaya pulled the silver earrings from her pocket, the emeralds sparkling darkly in the light of the gas lamps. She brought her head down and sucked each nipple in turn until they were hard under her tongue and a soft moan escaped Sarah’s lips. Her breath came faster. She shifted, trying to squeeze her legs together. Jaya stopped and placed the earrings on Sarah’s nipples. She turned the screws until they gripped and swung freely. Jaya tipped them
with her fingers, admiring how they swayed with each shuddering breath Sarah took. Her deep groan filled the quiet.

  Jaya stepped close and lowered her voice, her words for Sarah’s ears alone. “I adore you for this.” She dropped a quick kiss on Sarah’s lips and basked in the reflection of Sarah’s unspoken reply.

  Jaya settled her frame in the heavy oak and leather club chair. She ran her fingers over the ornate hourglass in the center of the side table. A red velvet fainting couch with a folded blanket was to her left on the raised platform. A crystal pitcher of water on a silver tray adorned a low table next to the couch. She picked up her glass of brandy. Lifting it, she swirled the contents before raising it in salute to Sarah and then taking a sip. Sarah stood perfectly still, shoulders back, her hands clasped at her waist, the sway of the earrings and her rapid breathing evidence of her fear and excitement.

  “Eyes to me.” Jaya tapped the crop sharply on the chair. The loud pop shattered the quiet, and Sarah raised her eyes to Jaya. Her breathing slowed audibly as she locked her gaze on Jaya’s face. Trust. Trust in me. In this. Sarah’s gaze was steady, her face peaceful, as if no one in the world existed except for the two of them. Staring into Sarah’s eyes, Jaya felt the power as it flowed between them, flowed out and came back to Jaya. The absolute trust in Sarah’s eyes overwhelmed her, and she was the one who had to look away.

  She turned the hourglass over and pointed at the first two masked figures. The women stepped forward and assisted Sarah to the Saint Andrew’s cross. They secured her arms and legs with wide leather straps making sure she could see Jaya. Sarah was calm, her gaze never leaving Jaya’s face. Jaya watched as each pair in turn plied Sarah with whips, floggers, paddles, fingers, teeth, lips, tongues, and every other means at their disposal to inflict pain and pleasure. She was oblivious to every taunt, slap, and blow directed at her. Each team of women brought Sarah to the edge of climax. Jaya lost track of the times she was sure Sarah would beg for release, would utter her safe word, would break, and yet each time she held on, her eyes locked on Jaya’s face.

  Her moans of pleasure filled the silence, her unspoken pleas louder than words. Sarah never wavered, never took her eyes from Jaya’s face, and Jaya drank it all in. She absorbed Sarah’s sighs and whimpers of pleasure and her pain. Every cry, every deep groan filled her. She took the gift Sarah gave her. Jaya lost her heart witnessing Sarah’s devotion to her. Holding on to her pleasure. Saving the ultimate surrender for me. Holding on so she can break for me. For me. All of this is for me. Her truth for me. Our truth.

  Jaya’s heart melted under the fire in Sarah’s eyes. Sarah held out. Fiercely saving her pleasure for Jaya. Jaya saw the truth of Sarah’s claim that she existed only to serve her. Her gaze locked on Jaya’s face, she opened her eyes wide, exposing her desperation and misery. Tears streamed down her face as she held nothing back

  Devotion. Beautiful. Pain. Desire. Need. Want. Jaya drowned in Sarah’s pain and pleasure and need. Sarah’s thighs glistened in the gaslight. The pair working her over now focused on Sarah’s pleasure. Octavia’s eyes were filled with challenge. She watched Jaya’s face as she bent Sarah over a rack. Octavia ran her hand over the thick cock she was wearing, covering it in lube. Obviously enjoying herself, she pressed into Sarah, entering her slowly and digging her fingers into her hips. Sarah’s gasp followed by a deep groan made Jaya’s gut clench.

  Octavia rolled her hips, each hard thrust making Sarah’s breasts sway and the heavy earrings swing wildly. The other woman knelt with her face buried between Sarah’s legs. The soft, wet sounds of her sucking made Jaya shift in her seat. She opened her shirt and slipped it off, the cool air welcome on her hot skin.

  Sarah’s moans of pleasure and the look in her eyes as Octavia drove into her made Jaya’s nipples hard and her clit harder. I need. I want. She glanced at the hourglass, willing the sand to move faster. I need. I want. Impatient to have Sarah herself and unsettled by Octavia’s challenge, Jaya looked away. She tipped the hourglass to its side.

  “Hold.” Jaya’s voice sounded rough in her own ears. A deep groan escaped Sarah when the pair ceased their attention and Octavia withdrew from her. Jaya clenched her fists to keep from slapping the look of mock disappointment and amusement from Octavia’s face. “Go. Now.” Octavia sauntered away, her arm around the other woman. She hadn’t bothered to take the strap-on off.

  The door latched closed, signaling they were alone, and Jaya closed the distance between them, staying in Sarah’s line of sight. She held the crop tightly, her knuckles white. Sarah kept her gaze on Jaya’s eyes. Defiance. Need. Want. Pride. Sarah was bent over the rack Octavia had bound her to. Her body sagged, chest heaving, breath ragged, her hands bound behind her.

  Jaya dropped the crop and stripped off her breeches and boots. Naked, she stood before Sarah and lifted her head. She kissed her swollen lips, wiping away the tears streaming down Sarah’s face. She released Sarah’s bonds and rubbed her shoulders and wrists. She raised her to stand. Her nipples were the color of fine claret from the earrings. Every inch of her bore the marks of the evening salon. Jaya ran her hands over Sarah’s body. She flicked the gems dangling from her nipples and Sarah shook violently. With a quick jerk, she pulled the clips off and Sarah yelped and swayed on her feet. Jaya steadied her. She touched each red mark and raked her nails down her body, over the welts. For me. I need. I want. Turning Sarah in her arms, she admired the beginning of bruises that would linger. She pushed her forward, using the weight of her body to bend her over a low leather bench. A mirror rested on the floor in front of them, reflecting their image. Sarah’s eyes locked on Jaya’s face in the mirror.

  “I want you unbound.” Jaya draped herself over Sarah’s back, covering her with her body and pressing her breasts against her body. Sarah’s soft sighs filled the silence. She rested her hands on the floor to steady herself. Draping her body over the low bench, she angled her hips up, keeping her legs wide and opening herself to Jaya. She knelt behind her and pushed two fingers inside Sarah’s slick, wet heat. Slow. Make it last. This moment. This gift. Savor it. She entered her slowly with a soft groan as she sank her fingers into Sarah’s wet velvet center. Sarah sighed, relaxing under her touch. She added a third finger, pressing down to open Sarah and working her flesh to ease the passage of the fourth. Sarah groaned deeply and pushed back. Spreading her legs wider, she made room for Jaya. She watched Sarah’s eyes in the mirror as she worked. Heavy lidded, her jaw slack with pleasure, and mouth open in a silent O, Sarah met her gaze. She went slowly, using one hand to tease Sarah’s thick, swollen clit while easing another finger into her.

  “All of me, Sarah. Take all of me.” Her eyes locked on Sarah’s in the mirror. Sarah pulsed around her fingers, her body opening itself fully to Jaya.

  “Yes, Mistress.” Sarah’s eyes went wide. Her body shook and she blew out a deep breath. “Yes, please. All of you, Mistress. Give me all of you.”

  Jaya tucked her thumb and with a small, gentle twist she buried herself wrist deep. She expected a soft cry or moan, not the heart-searing scream that filled the room as Sarah’s body expanded and her muscles gripped Jaya’s hand, pulling her deeper. She groaned as Sarah rocked back against her, taking all of her. Mine. Mine. Mine. Sarah came, hips thrashing, spilling wetness over Jaya’s hand. She shook violently, pushing back to take more, her core clenching around Jaya’s fist. Digging her nails into Sarah’s hip, Jaya held on and pounded into the submissive, taking every last bit she had to give. Sarah’s body sagged from her release. She eased her hand out of Sarah and gathered her up. Sarah’s tears wet her shoulder as she carried her to the velvet-covered couch. She placed a small pillow under Sarah’s head and covered her with the blanket. Sarah’s tears flowed freely. Jaya held her and wiped her tears as she made low shushing sounds. She offered her water. A loud sob shattered the calm of the moment.

  “Forgive me, Mistress. I failed. I couldn’t. I couldn’t stop myself. I took my pleasure without your permission.” She turned
her face from Jaya.

  Perfect. She is perfect. Jaya swallowed hard. I love this. Her. Love her. Love.

  “Look at me.” She traced a finger down Sarah’s shoulder. Sarah looked at Jaya, eyes wary, bracing herself for the slap she clearly expected. Jaya kissed her, taking her mouth with the same savage energy as she had taken her body. Sarah opened herself, meeting Jaya’s fierceness with her own. Jaya filled herself with Sarah’s essence, her submission, her power, and what Jaya wanted to be love. Let it be for her as it is for me. Jaya prayed to whatever gods watched over people such as her and to the universe. The fierce energy between them broke, dissolving into soft kisses and gentle touches.

  “You did well, Sarah. Go to sleep.” She tucked Sarah in, making sure there was plenty of water for her when she woke.

  Jaya dressed and walked back to her rooms alone. Her heart full, she fell asleep, dreaming of what life with Sarah would be like.

  Chapter Six

  “HAVE YOU EVER considered leaving the house?” Jaya watched Sarah’s face in the mirror and leaned into her touch as she brushed her hair. The hiss and crackle of the logs in the fire echoed in the silence after Jaya’s words. Sarah stopped brushing and rested her hands on Jaya’s shoulders. She looked down, avoiding the reflection of Jaya’s eyes. Her mouth quirked and she kept her head down as she started brushing Jaya’s hair again.

  “I have a good position and I’m well paid here. Mistress.” Sarah ran the brush through Jaya’s hair, following the strokes with her hand. Jaya closed her eyes against the sting of Sarah’s avoidance of the question. An outright no would be easier. She shook her hair back and waved Sarah off. The submissive’s subtle no cut Jaya to the quick.